


Memories Like The Pictures You've Taken

by sshadier



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Character, Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 15:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sshadier/pseuds/sshadier
Summary: !! post-leviathan battle spoilers !!A man relieved of his vision can only ever again experience light in the presence of its warmth.And just in the same way, he may also recognize the light in people by the warmth they plant in his soul.It is in spite of the cruel cold of the world that Prompto is a livewire beacon;a pillar of pure strength holding up even the heaviest of hearts.





	1. The Last Things He Remembered

   The hardest part for the three of them was over. Or, so Prompto thought. He managed to fly Noctis to Leviathan on his borrowed aircraft, and according to the boys on the ground, the evacuation of the city was a success. Even if Leviathan caused Altissia irreparable damages, the important part was that the people were taken to safety before they could come into contact with the Empire or the Gods. It seemed that Ignis and Gladio were able to send the citizens on their way just in time, too; Prompto never thought he had seen so many Imperials in his life, not even all of the dropships that followed them in their days prior to leaving for Altissia _combined_ could possibly add up to the population in the city.

   The tension grew with each passing moment as he flew himself over the part of the city away from Leviathan, where he had a feeling Ignis and Gladio still were. There was a chance that they couldn’t follow the evacuated citizens out of danger, a large possibility in fact, and was likely to be exactly what happened. That was why Prompto stayed in the air for as long as he could, scanning his sight over shining helmets and crowds of running MTs for a sign of combat or struggle.

   Before long, he spotted just the very thing he was looking out for: a circle of Imperials around a single combatant, barely keeping himself properly defended. From his descending height, Prompto identified the man to be Ignis; wherever Gladio had ended up, Prompto did not know, but he couldn’t leave Ignis to fight alone in the state he looked to be in.

   It was a crash landing at best. Prompto may have been good with machinery, but with Magitek technology, it couldn’t be figured out within the span of a few seconds — that was all the time he had, however, so he did his best to minimize the damage to himself as he led the machine close to the ground and leapt off before he could be caught in the following explosion. He’d sealed away his chance at saving himself and staying out of the heat of battle, but it was instinctual to stay behind and come to Ignis’ aid. Prompto had to help however he could; royal duty or otherwise, he was one of them.

   He didn’t even fall 20 feet through the air but felt a shock in his legs when he landed, and his knees gave way underneath him. With his momentum, however, he was able to shift his weight forward and roll into the fray, summoning his pistol at just the right time to land a bullet in the helmet of an MT. It stopped in its tracks and fell to the ground, sparing its intended victim from having to divert his attention from the Imperials already attacking.

   “ **Not a moment too soon,** ” Ignis said as him and Prompto moved back-to-back, taking a moment to gather their bearings.

   “ **Did you and Gladio get separated?** ”

   “ **I’m afraid so.** ”

   They synchronized their attacks and focused on the next foe to charge forward while the rest prowled around them in an enclosed circle. There was nowhere for the two of them to escape even if they wanted to; they had to be careful and precise.

   “ **We’ll just have to find him once we’re outta here.** ”

   “ **A task more readily done with an aircraft than on foot.** ”

   “ **Hey, if I can borrow one, I can borrow another.** ”

   “ **Let’s hope.** ”

   Metal bounded forward towards the two of them and they fought back as well as they could, nimble and specially trained just for these kinds of situations. The threat of war was all too real to go on a trip across the world without knowing how to handle long, stressful combat; especially Prompto had been given the same training as the rest of them. One of the conditions for going along on the trip was to fight like the Crownsguard, and though he may not have had as much _experience_ as the rest of them, he was quick to adapt and learn.

   Ignis was fully dependent on Prompto to not forget his late-training in the place of his nerves. If he were to mess up in such close quarters, the both of them would suffer, and there was no guarantee that he would be able to bring them both out alive or uninjured. As the battle raged on and MTs fell in front of them, however, Prompto continued to hold his own and protect Ignis’ backside without much error.

   That was, until every MT they defeated seemed to be replaced twofold. Prompto could have sworn the numbers were smaller when he first got there.

   “ **They just keep coming,** ” he muttered.

   “ **We mustn’t lose focus,** ” Ignis reminded him, and Prompto took in his words with a nod — until he saw a fresh mech marching its way into their path.

   “ **They seriously deployed one of those things in the city?!** ”

   “ **Change of plan, Prompto.** ”

   He could take a guess as to what exactly the new plan was, but he waited for Ignis’ instruction nonetheless — within the next few seconds he realized just what Ignis was doing, and steered completely clear of the path of destruction that he was creating.

   “ **Throw a gravisphere their way and we’ll flee in the opposite direction. We’re outnumbered. There seems to be no alternative option for us.** ”

   “ **Roger that!** ”

   The gravisphere brought together most of the Magitek infantry while Ignis’ sagefire incapacitated most of their limbs, buying them enough time to hightail it across the Empire-infested streets of Altissia. They needed to find Gladio, and as soon as Noctis was finished with Leviathan, they would all head off to safety with Lunafreya in their company.

   Before they could change their course, an audible whistle hit the air from behind them. It flew faster than either of them could run or have the chance to get out of its path — a thick projectile spinning a trail of smoke behind it as it charged towards Ignis. He barely had enough time to hold an arm up to his face and brace himself, but he felt the full impact, and he fell to the ground immediately after.

   Around him the temperature grew hot and Prompto could have sworn the hairs on his arms caught fire, but through the ash and dust, he grabbed for the man who had taken a direct hit from the Magitek missile. At first he was only swinging for air, as if he expected Ignis to have still been standing in place, but the realization hit him with the empty space that _Ignis had taken a direct hit with an explosive weapon_.

_Oh no, oh Gods, oh please don’t be —_

   “ **Ignis. Ignis! We gotta get outta here, we gotta go, come on.** ”

   There was no response when Prompto kneeled down, avoiding another projectile that had been sent in his direction. Thanks to the smoke still settling around them from the first explosion, it was poorly aimed anyway, but the shock of everything was too real. Ignis wasn’t moving, he wasn’t speaking, he wasn’t even _coughing_ through the thick concentration of hot metal and fire that burned up Prompto’s nose and down his throat. But when he got to his knees, his hands found Ignis without much of a problem.

   Right away he tried to lift his fallen company from the ground; his deadweight gave Prompto equally heavy thoughts, as in the moment there was no way to distinguish between _unconscious_ and…

   The smoke was clearing quickly and the Magitek troops were finding their mark once more. There was no clear place to go without turning Ignis’ body into an easy target, so Prompto had no choice but to hold up Ignis’ head with one arm and defend the both of them with the other. He thanked his training for giving him double pistol experience and ambidextrous handling, though that didn’t make up for the bullets that his body was taking. As fast as he was trying to work while hovering on top of what could have been a dead body, his nerves were beginning to take hold, and his accuracy continued to worsen.

   “ **Now would be a good time to wake up,** ” his voice rambled out, not sparing any hint of desperateness. “ **I’m in a tough spot here, I don’t —** ”

_I don’t know what to do._

_I remember those nights we all spent by the fire, looking at pictures and thanking the heavens for your cooking. I remember the way you’d always talk to us then, beyond day planning or daily rations, sharing stories about happier times in happier places. I remember that look you’d always get in your eye that I tried to keep in photographs, the less serious you that I always wanted to see more often._

   “ **Ignis, can you hear me? If you can hear me, I’ll get us out of this, I promise.** ”

_Noctis needs you, we all need you. So please…!_

   “ **Prompto!** ”

   From behind them he heard a familiar voice: a shield’s voice, who was rushing ahead to swipe troop after troop out of the way. Behind the front line of Imperials, the mech had been severely damaged thanks to Prompto’s early targeting, but it was still holding up enough to send the odd missile their way. At least the mechanism had been damaged enough to misfire before Prompto’s aim took the same bad turn as his thoughts and nerves; none of the fired projectiles managed to hit near them after Ignis fell unconscious.

   “ **You two look like you’ve seen better days.** ”

   “ **We need to get Ignis somewhere safe, I don’t know if he’s…** ”

   After taking out the group that had been settling around Prompto and Ignis, Gladio took a look back, and his expression fell into something worrisome. Not scary, or angered, but the kind of _shock_ and _fear_ that didn’t suit Gladio in the least; Prompto wasn’t used to that sort of look on him at all. For Gladio to be scared of something was terrifying in its own right.

   “ **Shit.** ”

   “ **We’ve gotta hurry —** ”

   Prompto went to stand and lift Ignis, but his leg seared with pain, and he could only get up halfway before Gladio took over completely.

   “ **I’ll carry him from here, can you walk?** ”

   “ **Think so.** ”

   It was the first time he looked down at himself since the fight began. Bloody spots adorned his left leg, the one that had been facing the Imperials and shielding Ignis’ body from more damage than he had already faced. There was another on his arm, and rips along his clothing where he had been grazed. But what took most of his attention was the caked blood on his chest and shoulder, where he had been holding up Ignis’ head. Some of it was still dripping, almost invisible against his black clothing, but leaving streaks of red where gravity pulled it down.

   That was also when he finally got a clear look at Ignis, or what would have been Ignis, had he not been coated in blood so dark it could’ve been black, or was that soot from the explosion? It was right over his eyes, and across his nose and lips. Deep down, he hoped that it could be wiped away and beneath it Ignis would be unmarked by the battle, but he knew that wasn’t true. Their duty came with risks and consequences. Ignis knew it, Gladio knew it, and Prompto knew it.

   But even if they knew it, Prompto was still so unsettled he thought he might get sick over the railing of the corridors they were running through. If Ignis was alive, would he ever be able to see right again? Would he ever be the same?

   Quietly, perhaps Prompto already knew that answer as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was truly a hollow shell of a person after chapters 9 and 10.  
> It's been months since I've finished the game but writing this was unbelievably cathartic; more to come soon!  
> As always, thank you for reading!


	2. The Truths They Cannot Run From

   The air was somber, quiet enough to hear the people speak on the streets below the open window. A population large enough for what Altissia used to be was never meant to occupy such a small area, but the destruction of their homes had left them no other choice. The only forgiveness they had in their hearts for such a destructive thing was likely the speech that Luna had given before it, ever graceful and inspiring. But even she was gone with the architecture and rubble that Gods and machinery had left behind in their wake. She was the youngest Oracle in history... and likely the youngest to die as well.

   Prompto had never been able to meet her and thank her for giving him the resolve to even be where he stood in the first place. He’d never be able to see his best friend get married, or peace be signed between nations — but maybe that was never a promise that the Empire planned on keeping. Either way, there was no denying the utterly devastating loss that everyone had experienced that day.

   When they had gotten back and Noctis was placed under care, it was Prompto’s turn — though sensitive as he was around his wrist, he had to let a doctor remove the bullets that were lodged under his skin, in his arms and his legs. In total, six of them were taken out, and by some miracle none of them left behind any shrapnel. It was only a couple of hours of pain altogether, and then soothing numbness brought on by concentrated hi-potions.

   He’d been told by Gladio to get rest for the night, that he’d watch over Noctis until morning. There was little room to argue when it came to something Gladio was decided on, but Prompto still couldn’t find sleep as he lay in the bed that was far too soft for the hardness of his life in the past 24 hours. Besides the gentle hum of Altissian talk moved up by the night’s breeze, Prompto was also kept awake by the gentle breathing coming from the other bed in the room. Ignis.

   There wasn’t much that could be done after the doctor cleaned him up and gave him his own dosage of hi-potions. She talked a lot of deep-set trauma that couldn’t be healed so easily, that was doubtful to ever be fully restored again. His skin was one of those things, the scarring taking on an angered purple-pink color that might or might not fade in time. His vision was the other: the eye that was on the same side as most of his scarring was never likely to heal or even open again, and his other was a wild card, completely unpredictable.

   His odds still didn’t look good in the slightest. Prompto was made even more aware of this fact when Ignis’ breathing changed the pace that it had been keeping for an hour now, scaring him into sitting up straight and staring over at the figure shifting in the dark. But several seconds passed on and it was clear that Ignis was simply awake, not having any complications that Prompto had been fearing ever since he saw Ignis fall unconscious.

   “ **Ignis?** ” he asked for good measure. Not that he was one to sleepwalk, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure that his trauma hadn’t caused any coexisting conditions (somnambulism was perhaps among the more harmless things that could happen, yet still, Prompto resolved to take whatever precautions necessary to make sure that Ignis wouldn’t be hurting himself).

   “ **Ah,** ” he said. Sleepwalking crossed itself off the list, but he took a good long moment to say anything besides the small acknowledgement. “ **...Is Noctis well?** ”

   “ **Yeah,** ” Prompto answered a little too quickly, and a little too obviously trying to sound accommodating. “ **He’s just sleeping it off. Doc said he’d wake up in no time.** ”

   “ **And Lady Lunafreya?** ”

   “ **...** ” That one… was a little harder to say. “ **She’s, uh… Not with us anymore.** ”

   “ **Has she passed?** ”

   The directness made a small gasp escape from Prompto, who certainly didn’t think that the information had to be directly stated with the tone of all that happened. But then, he supposed that when it came to the people who were raised to protect the royal family with their very lives, death wasn’t something you could skirt around with nicer words or anything other than a direct answer.

   “ **...Yeah.** ”

   They shared in the silence until Ignis shifted again, clearly trying to stand from the bed. In spite of the room’s darkness, the window brought in enough light for Prompto to navigate over to Ignis’ bed and offer his help. Luckily enough his footsteps were more than enough warning for Ignis, who was trying his hardest not to make too big of a deal of his new and obvious condition. But just like Luna’s death he didn’t want to skirt around the issue, especially as Prompto so apparently knew of his inability to see.

   “ **What did the doctor say of my injuries?** ” He let Prompto help him out of bed and into his shoes, being unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of his arm being touched — guided.

   “ **We’re not sure if your eyesight is going to come back,** ” his tone turned serious and even quieter than before, though he was much less surprised at this instance of candor. “ **I’m sorry, Ignis. I did everything I could to —** ”

   “ **Say no more, Prompto. None of us have ever been in such a drastic situation as this one, training or otherwise.** ” He took a breath and his steps slowed, but he pressed on anyway. “ **You made a commendable effort. So, please.** ”

   He reached out for where he remembered Prompto’s shoulders to be, and his guess turned out to be quite correct, which _absolutely_ saved him the embarrassment of swiping his hand around the open air for it.

   “ **No apologies.** ”

   Prompto still felt bad, awful, terrible, every word in the book that could encompass the guilty empathy for Ignis having lost his eyesight on Prompto’s watch. He wanted to help in any way he could, knowing that he’d never be able to restore what was lost.

   “ **I’m famished,** ” he said all too casually as Prompto carefully walked him down the steps.

   “ **Me too, we’ll grab something downstairs.** ”

   The hour wasn’t agonizingly late, but it was late enough for the dinner crowd to have dispersed and left most tables open for the taking. For the sake of privacy, Prompto chose to seat them as far away from passing pedestrians as possible. Though Ignis couldn’t see the people staring, Prompto could, and as much as it angered him there was little he could do besides take a seat in the most private corner that was available.

   They ate in silence for the majority of their meal while Prompto pretended not to inspect Ignis’ injury from his seat. It almost looked like his skin had been ripped away, but with the healing qualities of hi-potions, there wasn’t any open risk or danger of infection. Whatever damage was left on his skin would likely stay there; if he had any hi-potions with him on the field, he could have perhaps saved Ignis a bit of the scarring, but with an injury so bad Prompto had to wonder if it would have made a difference at all.

   “ **Prompto.** ”

   Ignis’ voice stirred Prompto out of his _what-ifs_ and _maybes_ , but he didn’t let it bother him too much. He needed to get his mind off of the past at any rate, unable to change what had already been done.

   “ **Yeah?** ”

   “ **Your pictures. Thank you for taking them. Most of them were so striking, I don’t think I’ll forget them anytime soon.** ”

   “ **Hey…** ” Prompto leaned forward, putting his palm over one of Ignis’ hands, the one that had been resting on the table. “ **There’s a chance you could see them again. It’s only a matter of time until we know for sure, so just… Don’t give up yet.** ”

   Ignis took a small moment to think, and then gave a small nod. In truth, he was already decided in the progress of his injury. He knew it wouldn't heal. That the most satisfaction he would get was the fading of the scars. But he also knew that Prompto was trying his hardest, and in the moment, it didn't hurt to humor him. “ **We’ll see in time, then.** ”

   They rose from the table shortly after the finished dinner. Ignis, however, had gotten ahead of himself when he took his first step forward, proceeding to fall with the motion of his abrupt walk (he couldn't be blamed, really; was there anybody who could get used to being blind in such a short time?). With both of his hands he reached out for something, _anything_ to keep him on his feet, in what he knew to be Prompto’s direction. The contact was almost immediate. Prompto steadied him without a second thought.

   But then he thought it over, over and over as they walked back up the stairs into their shared room. In his heart, more than anything, he wanted to make sure Ignis wouldn’t fall no matter what kind of condition he had. Whether he was blind for a month, or blind for the rest of his life, Prompto couldn’t bear to see someone like Ignis struggle. It broke his heart. It filled him with resolve.

   Ignis could continue on. Prompto knew he had the strength. But even when he didn’t, and he needed to be pulled along until his own two feet were as stalwart as his soul, Prompto would be there to be leaned on and offer his support like a pillar underneath a stone balcony.

   Perhaps being relied on was more of a welcome feeling than Prompto ever wanted to admit, either out loud or to himself. And whether or not Ignis would continue to want his help was beyond knowing in the moment, when the wounds were too fresh to be separate from fear or dependency. But then, the way Ignis’ fingers curled ever tighter around the arm that Prompto offered whenever he had even a slight misstep made his heart break in a new way. Like being bereft of oxygen or speech, like butterflies and stones were at war in his stomach. He didn’t want to be freed from that touch — no, that _grasp_.

   Prompto fully embraced it for however long it was destined to last. To be helpful, and to be needed, was all he could ever ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much tamer chapter in comparison to the introduction, but one that had to be written nonetheless.  
> Thank you all for reading. ♥


End file.
